


I'll Be Gone

by lostresidentevilpotter



Series: When She Leaves [2]
Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/F, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:40:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23590210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostresidentevilpotter/pseuds/lostresidentevilpotter
Summary: They stay with Al and Isabelle beyond the first week. If it was up to Alicia, they would’ve already left.Direct sequel to Won’t Come Back.
Relationships: Alicia Clark & Luciana Galvez, Althea/Alicia Clark, Althea/Isabelle (Fear the Walking Dead), Charlie & Alicia Clark
Series: When She Leaves [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698085
Comments: 13
Kudos: 42





	I'll Be Gone

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of writing more for Won't Come Back has been nagging at me for a while now, so I finally did it. And I should probably apologize in advance. I guess you could read this on its own, but it probably won't make a lot of sense if you don't read Won't Come Back first. Also this is my 25th FTWD fic, which seems like a milestone to me. Hopefully, there'll be much more to come.

They stay with Al and Isabelle beyond the first week. If it was up to Alicia, they would’ve already left, but Luci expresses an interest in sticking with Al and Isabelle – maybe even long term – and Alicia doesn’t have the heart to say no. And she also has no interest in explaining why she’s so eager to get away from Al now that they’ve found her again. Alicia reminds herself that no one knows what happened between her and Al five years ago, when Al first left the denim factory. She never told anyone, and when the factory fell – well, there’s no point in digging up old shit.

But as one week turns into two, Alicia’s getting restless. They never stay in one area for long. Iowa is quiet, isolated. It feels safe, and Alicia doesn’t like it. Al and Isabelle haven’t left precisely because it’s quiet, Alicia knows. Al’s trying to piece together her growing collection of apocalypse interviews, trying to make a documentary out of them or something. She spends a lot of her time in the back of her van, going over tapes, taking notes. Isabelle seems to do a lot more of the practical work: maintenance on the van, killing the stray walkers, organizing supplies.

“What can I do?” Alicia asks on their ninth day together. Isabelle looks over her shoulder before she strikes a match and lights three walker bodies on fire.

“Sorry?” Isabelle says. She turns to face Alicia as the bodies burn behind her. Isabelle always stands with her back straight, making Alicia feel smaller than she is.

“You guys seem to have some sort of system worked out,” Alicia says. She scratches the back of her neck. “We’ve been here nine days, and you haven’t asked us to help out.”

Isabelle smiles. “We can handle it,” she assures Alicia. “We don’t want to disrupt your way of doing things.”

“We can pitch in,” Alicia argues.

“Things have finally calmed down,” Isabelle says. “Al has finally stopped throwing herself head first into danger. Now I’m sure this won’t last forever, but I’m going to take what I can get. There isn’t much to do beyond busywork and relaxing, Alicia.”

“There’s got to be something,” Alicia insists.

Isabelle sighs. “There’s a pharmacy in town,” she says. “Since Al loves to trade our medical supplies for interviews, I’m thinking we can raid the pharmacy soon. If you want to come –”

“Consider it done,” Alicia says.

Isabelle nods. “Tomorrow morning?”

Alicia smiles wryly. “It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do, right?”

Isabelle studies her face curiously. “You think we can take your car? Taking the van would be a hassle.”

“Yeah, I’ll make it happen,” Alicia says.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

*

Luci, Strand, and Charlie all complain when Alicia wakes them and forces them to move to the van. They all shut up as Isabelle steps out of the back of the van with a backpack slung over one shoulder, a rifle over the other.

“What’s going on?” Strand asks.

“We’re going to restock medical supplies,” Alicia grunts. “Go wait with Al. We shouldn’t be long.”

Strand and Luci exchange a glance, and Charlie immediately says, “I’ll come.”

“Not necessary,” Alicia dismisses. “The pharmacy is close by, and we have radios. It’ll be fine.”

No one argues. Alicia doesn’t remember when she became their unofficial leader, but there hasn’t been much argument amongst them since they left the factory. Strand, Luci, and Charlie all leave the SUV for the van, and Isabelle tosses the backpack and her rifle into the back before climbing into the passenger’s seat.

“Ready?” Isabelle asks. In response, Alicia starts the engine. Isabelle gives the directions, but the pharmacy’s less than five minutes away. Alicia can probably even remember the way back.

“What are we looking for?” Alicia questions. Isabelle retrieves her rifle and the backpack – which turns out to be completely empty.

“Anything and everything,” Isabelle answers. She shakes her head then mutters, “Al will probably trade most of it away.”

Alicia decides not to comment on that and pulls one of her butterfly knives from her pocket. The pharmacy is unlocked, and Alicia lets Isabelle draw the dead out of their hiding spots by hitting the rifle against one of the shelves. Alicia kills the walkers then turns her attention to the shelves.

“There’s a lot left,” Alicia observes.

“Yeah,” Isabelle replies. “We’ve already stocked up twice.”

“And you ran out?”

“I hid the most important stuff from Al,” Isabelle says. “You never know when you’re going to contract something nasty. The rest was pretty much traded for interviews with the few other people we’ve found out here.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

Isabelle sighs heavily. “I’ve tried arguing, believe me. It never goes anywhere.”

“And if Al was going to listen to anyone, it’d be you, right?” Alicia guesses.

“You’d think.”

Alicia shoves two handfuls of bottles of different antacids into the empty backpack. “Well, you’ve stayed for a reason,” Alicia says.

“Yeah, and that’s why I’ve stopped arguing with Al about trading our supplies.”

Alicia’s eyebrows pull together. “I’m sorry, I don’t –”

“You make sacrifices for the people you love,” Isabelle says. “Al has made it very clear that collecting people’s stories is important to her, so as long as she isn’t directly harming us in the process…I do what I can to keep her happy.”

“And she does the same for you?”

“Believe it or not, yeah.”

Alicia nods. Her mouth’s gone dry. She clears her throat, but that does nothing, so she continues reading labels and adds the most important stuff to Isabelle’s backpack.

“Look,” Isabelle says. “I know Al offered you guys a permanent spot with us, and I think you should know, that’s not just from her. I think it’d be great if you’d stay.”

Alicia pauses and stares down the aisle to where Isabelle’s rummaging through over the counter pain medication. Alicia inhales sharply, then stops before she can say anything she’ll regret. But then Isabelle realizes she’s being stared at, and she stops to stare back at Alicia.

“What?” Isabelle prompts.

“I don’t know if staying is a good idea,” Alicia says. She stops staring at Isabelle, returns her eyes to the vitamins spread out in front of her. “The more people you have, the more attention you attract.”

“Six people isn’t a lot. You can just say it, Alicia. If you don’t want to stay – for whatever reason – you can just say it.”

“I can’t tell Al I don’t want to stay,” Alicia blurts.

“Why not?” Isabelle asks softly. “She might take it hard, but she’ll be okay.”

“No, that’s not – that isn’t why,” Alicia says. She shakes her head. “She’ll want an explanation of why, and then Luci will tell her that I’m the one that really wants to leave and – I should stop talking.”

“No, please,” Isabelle says. “Go ahead.”

Alicia chews on her lower lip. “There’s just – a thing that happened five years ago, and I’ve tried very hard to let it go, and being here has just dug it all back up, okay?”

Alicia abandons the over the counter stuff for whatever might be left behind the counter. She finds the prescription pain pills, and she stops, for some reason. She picks up one bottle, stares at the label, and can’t help but wonder –

No. She is not about to try to relate to Nick’s drug addiction just because she has feelings for someone who’s obviously in love with someone else.

“You okay?”

Alicia jumps and spins around, realizing Isabelle had somehow snuck up on her. “Fine,” Alicia says. “You scared me.”

“Sorry. What’re you holding?”

Alicia slaps the bottle into Isabelle’s palm. “Opioids are –”

“I know. But maybe you can trade them or something.”

“Not a bad idea.”

Alicia’s hands shake as she sets the bottles of prescription pain pills into the backpack, but if Isabelle notices, she doesn’t say anything about it. She waits until the backpack is full, zips it, and slings it over her shoulder. Only then does Alicia realize Isabelle is blocking the exit.

“Is that it?” Alicia asks.

“Yeah, that’s good,” Isabelle says. She hesitates. “Can I ask you something personal?”

Alicia tries to control her expression so she doesn’t look too dumbfounded, but she probably doesn’t succeed. “I mean…sure?”

“Al told me something happened before she left your factory. Between you and her. And I just –”

“She told you I kissed her, didn’t she?” Alicia questions.

Isabelle smiles apologetically. “Yeah.”

“You’ve known this whole time.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re going to ask me if that’s why I want to leave so badly, even though it’s been five years and I should be completely over it?”

“Yeah.”

Alicia scoffs, but she can’t think of anything else to say. She just nods. “Yeah,” she finally makes herself say. “Yeah, that’s why. And Luci, Strand, and Charlie know nothing, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Understood.” Isabelle starts to step out of the way, but she pauses and adds, “You know, this doesn’t change anything. I still want you guys to stay.”

“I’m thinking about it.”

*

When they arrive back at the van, Charlie and Strand are tossing a baseball back and forth, and Luci and Al are watching from their seats on the van’s steps. As Alicia parks the SUV, Al says something that makes Luci laugh uncontrollably and ends with Luci punching Al in the arm.

“You mind keeping the backpack in here until I get a chance to sort through the stuff and hide what we need to keep?” Isabelle asks.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Alicia says absently.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Isabelle says.

“Yeah.”

They get out of the SUV, and when Alicia locks eyes with Strand, he throws the baseball her way. She easily catches it out of the air and tosses it over to Charlie.

“Everything go well?” Strand asks.

“Great,” Alicia says. “You guys look like you’re having fun.”

Charlie snorts. “Yeah, sure. Except the day just started and we’re all already bored enough to just throw a ball back and forth.”

“Come on, kid,” Al calls. “I have some things you can help me with.”

Charlie looks to Alicia in confusion, but Alicia shrugs and motions for Charlie to go with Al. Charlie follows Al into the van, even though Charlie made it clear to Alicia a few days ago that she hardly remembers anything about Al. Alicia’s initial guess at what Charlie might remember was almost correct. She remembers Al and Alicia’s fight in the van. She remembers almost dying of antifreeze poisoning. She even has a vague memory of someone leaving the factory early on, because Alicia didn’t leave but it ruined her spirit or something. And that’s it.

“Hey, Strand, you want to help me sort through medications?” Isabelle asks. Strand agrees, leaving Alicia outside of the van with Luci. Alicia frowns, crosses her arms over her chest, watching Al sort through her tapes as Charlie takes a tentative seat.

“You okay?” Luci asks.

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?” Luci repeats.

“Fine. Why?”

“You just seem…off.”

Alicia tears her eyes away from the van to look at Luci. “I don’t like this,” Alicia says. “Staying here. Not moving. We’re sitting ducks.”

“We’ll be alright,” Luci says.

“That’s what we thought with the factory. We thought we were invincible, and we paid for it.”

“This isn’t the factory, Alicia. There are less people out here. But if you really think we should go…” Luci trails off.

“I’m thinking about it.”

*

“How’s your handwriting?”

“What?” Charlie says. She watches as Al crouches in front of her safe and unlocks it. Charlie sits with her hands folded in her lap as Al pulls out her tapes and her camera.

“Your handwriting,” Al says, holding out a pen and a notebook. “Is it legible?”

“I – I haven’t written anything in a long time,” Charlie says. “So I don’t know.”

Al smiles gently and drops the notebook and pen into Charlie’s lap. “Do your best,” she says. “I want you to help me take notes on my interviews.”

“Why are you taking notes?”

“It’s easier to review notes than to watch interviews over and over. I’ll tell you what to do. I just need you to write it down for me, please.”

“Okay,” Charlie agrees. She picks up the pen. It takes her a second, which is a little embarrassing, but she remembers how to hold it. Her writing is shaky, at first, but she writes as Al speaks. Charlie doesn’t mind. It’s a nice distraction, for the most part. Except when the interviews veer into unpleasant territory.

“If you want to stop –” Al begins to offer, but Charlie cuts her off with, “I’m fine.”

Al presses her lips together and nods. She stops anyway and scoots back from the safe. She doesn’t leave her spot from the floor, though, just leans back against the set of seats opposite of Charlie. Al rubs at her nose, at the scar there. Charlie stares at her, and Al stares back.

“What?” Charlie questions. “I said we didn’t have to stop.”

“We can take a break. That last one was a rough interview.”

“Shit happens.”

Al scoffs. “Yeah. I know.”

Charlie blinks as Al continues to stare at her. “Why are you staring at me?” she asks.

“You got old.”

Charlie makes a face only a disgruntled teenager could and retorts, “Well, so did you.”

Al laughs and nods, scratching the back of her neck. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. The factory – Texas – feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Five years is a long time,” Charlie says.

“Yeah, you were really short five years ago.”

“You were still around five years ago.”

Al’s eyebrows raise. “Ouch.”

“Not that it really matters – to me, at least,” Charlie continues. “I barely remember.”

“Point taken.”

“Now do you want to reminisce or do you want me to keep taking your notes for you?”

“Reminisce. That’s a big word for you.”

“I’ve done a lot of reading in the last five years,” Charlie says flatly. “We have a dictionary.”

Al holds her hand out, and Charlie passes the notebook over. Al’s eyes skim through the pages Charlie filled. “Tell me, honestly…did the factory fall because I left?”

“I don’t know how to answer that,” Charlie says. “It didn’t fall right away, but your absence threw off the – I don’t know, it changed the group’s dynamic. You should really ask Alicia these things. I don’t remember much.”

“I can’t ask Alicia.”

“Why not?”

“She’ll tell me to mind my own business.”

“Then maybe you should.”

Al snaps the notebook shut and shoves it back into the safe, adding the tapes next. Charlie holds the pen out, and Al takes it, hooking it on her shirt pocket. “You’re free to go,” Al says. “Thanks.”

Charlie stands, but she hesitates on her way out. “You messed her up,” Charlie says.

“What?”

“Alicia,” Charlie clarifies. “I don’t know how or why, but when you left…you messed her up. Even now.”

“I’m here now,” Al says.

“Yeah, but you’re five years too late,” Charlie replies. “She doesn’t want to stay.”

Al stands quickly, nearly hitting her head on one of the van’s shelves. “What?”

“Alicia doesn’t want to stay,” Charlie says. “She wants to leave.”

“Why?”

Charlie shrugs and jams her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “You should really ask Alicia.”

*

They all eat dinner around the fire Isabelle builds as the sun is beginning to set. Strand and Isabelle talk animatedly, but Alicia tunes them out. She pokes at her noodles, eating a mouthful only when she notices someone watching her. That someone is usually Al, but Charlie’s spending more time than usual looking Alicia’s way. Alicia forces down her entire dinner, and she’s the first person to walk away from the fire.

Charlie is quick to follow after her, and once they’re out of earshot of everyone else, Charlie says, “Hey, I think you need to talk to Al.”

Alicia stiffens. “Why?” she asks.

“I just think you should.”

“What did she say to you?” Alicia demands.

“What? Nothing. She was just asking weird questions that I couldn’t answer.”

“Like what?”

Charlie falters. “Just, like, why the factory fell and why you don’t want to stay.”

Alicia’s eyes narrow. “You told her I don’t want to stay?”

“I thought she already knew.”

“I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Which means you want to leave and don’t know how to tell them,” Charlie says. “Don’t look so surprised. I’ve known you a long time.”

“Luci and Strand want to stay,” Alicia says. “And you haven’t said what you want to do.”

“I’ll do whatever you do. You know that.”

*

Alicia waits until Isabelle disappears into the van for the night, taking Charlie, Luci, and Strand with her. There’s a storm coming, and the van will offer more protection from whatever the storm might bring. At least that’s Isabelle’s logic.

“I’ll do the perimeter check,” Al tells Isabelle.

“Take Alicia with you.”

“Got it.”

They kiss, quickly, but Alicia still wishes she hadn’t seen it out of the corner of her eye. She lingers by the SUV until the van’s doors shut, waits until Al walks over with her hand resting on the gun at her hip. She smiles as she approaches Alicia, and even in the waning sunlight, Alicia can’t take her eyes off that scar on Al’s face.

“We gotta check the perimeter,” Al says, “and then we can turn in for the –”

The moment she’s close enough, Alicia grabs a fistful of the front of Al’s shirt and slams her back into the SUV. She has the element of surprise on her side, and Alicia’s got Al pinned before she can react.

“What exactly did you say to Charlie today?” Alicia asks through gritted teeth.

“What?” Al says in disbelief.

Alicia presses her fist more firmly into Al’s chest, but Al doesn’t try to move. “You heard me. What did you say to her?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Al says. “I just – I asked her some questions, but she couldn’t remember why the factory fell.”

“That hardly matters now.”

“Morgan thought it was a permanent settlement.”

“Morgan is dead, because he was wrong,” Alicia snaps. “He refused to see that it could fall, and he refused to believe that it was falling.”

“Was it my fault that it fell?”

Alicia almost laughs. “You’re really self-centered, aren’t you?” She shoves Al by the chest then releases her hold on Al’s shirt and takes a step back. “It fell because we got careless. Anything else I can answer for you?”

“Did I mess you up?”

Alicia does laugh this time, harshly. “Fuck off.”

“Seriously.”

“Why would you even ask something like that?”

“Charlie said it messed you up when I left. She said you want to leave.”

“We’re sitting ducks here.”

“We’re safe.”

“No, we aren’t!” Alicia exhales through her nose, tries to calm herself. She shouldn’t be yelling, especially not after dark. She half expects Isabelle to come out of the van, but they must not be able to hear them. “Let’s check the fucking perimeter and go to bed,” Alicia says.

They start walking. Alicia fiddles with one of her butterfly knives absently. She’s had plenty of time to practice. The perimeter check is pointless, if you ask Alicia, but they walk about a thousand feet away from the van, making sure everything’s still in order. No walkers, no people, that sort of thing.

“Are you going to answer my question?” Al asks.

“Which one?”

“Did I mess you up? Or I guess you could just tell me why you want to leave.”

“Can we just finish this in silence?”

“No.”

Alicia closes the butterfly knife up but continues to hold it in her hand. “You should be able to answer one of those questions yourself, if you paid attention at all.”

“So I did mess you up. So badly that – that it’s still affecting you now? What did I do?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Alicia snarls. “You _left_.” Alicia shakes her head, stares off to the side even as Al stares at her. “Would it even have made any difference if I’d asked you to stay?”

Al inhales sharply. “I don’t know. You didn’t ask.”

“I didn’t think I had to.”

“I’m here now,” Al says. “I don’t know – what else am I supposed to do?”

“Nothing,” Alicia says. “You do nothing. And stop talking to Charlie behind my back.”

“If I agree, will you stay?”

Alicia stops walking, forcing Al to stop, too. “I don’t know,” she says.

“What’ll make you stay?” Al asks. “Just tell me what I have to do.”

Alicia hesitates. “No. There’s nothing you can do.”

“There has to be something.”

“Nothing reasonable.”

Al’s lips part, but whatever she was going to say dies in her throat. “What are you – I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to.”

Alicia starts walking again. Al follows, but she doesn’t speak as the cogs in her brain turn and work it out. “It’s Isabelle,” Al guesses.

“I like Isabelle,” Alicia replies. “She seems…nice.”

“But that’s not it. It’s not Isabelle – it’s the fact that I’m with her,” Al says. Alicia doesn’t answer, and she realizes too late that her silence itself is an answer for Al. “Alicia, I can’t –”

“It’s too late,” Alicia interrupts. “There’s no reason to talk about it anymore.”

“No, we need to talk about this –”

“Why? It’s been five years. You’ve got a whole different life now – I have a whole different life now. I won’t stick around long enough to ruin yours.”

“That’s not –”

“I can’t stay,” Alicia says. “Just like you couldn’t five years ago.”

“That’s different.”

“How?” When Al doesn’t answer, Alicia mutters, “Exactly.”

“You don’t have to go.”

“No, I don’t,” Alicia says. “I want to.”

“Two weeks,” Al blurts.

“What?”

“Give it two more weeks,” Al says. “And if you still want to leave…I won’t stop you.”

They’re back where they started. They start walking back toward the SUV as Alicia contemplates her answer. “Fine,” she agrees. “Two weeks. But I can guarantee you, nothing will change. I still think it’s dangerous to stay in the same place. And I still – I just can’t be here.”

“With me and Isabelle.”

Alicia sighs. “Yeah,” she admits. “You’d think five years would’ve changed something.” Their eyes meet, and a look of disgust passes across Alicia’s face. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you pity me. It’s gross.”

“Sorry.” Al pauses. “I didn’t know.”

“You knew,” Alicia replies. “You just chose not to see it.”

“We were young.”

“No, we weren’t.”

“I wasn’t ready for something like that.”

Alicia tilts her head to the side. “Something like what? A relationship? Or just the idea of having feelings for someone else after the entire world has gone to shit?”

“Either.”

Alicia shrugs and jams the butterfly knife into her pocket. “Yeah, whatever, Al. You tell yourself whatever you need to in order to sleep at night, alright? You’ve got two more weeks, and then I’ll be gone.”

*

The van is cramped, but the storm starts shortly after Al and Alicia return from the perimeter check. Lightning dances across the sky, thunder booms, and rain pours incessantly. Strand and Luci have claimed their spots in the front, and Strand’s already snoring away.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Charlie offers. “You should have the seats.”

“It’s fine,” Alicia says. “I can take the floor.”

“I’m younger, remember?” Charlie teases. “Your back’s going to bother you if you sleep on the floor.”

“My back will bother me if I sleep on the seats, too,” Alicia snorts. Who knew twenty-nine would feel more like forty-nine? Charlie already has a blanket, though, and she spreads it out in the aisle and claims her spot.

“Goodnight,” Charlie says cheerily. Isabelle’s already sprawled out on the seats across the aisle, wearing athletic shorts and a tank top. She’s holding a book above her face, steadily flipping pages as she reads. Al, Alicia thinks, is stalling. She takes more time than necessary to get her boots off, takes her time getting out of her jacket, changes into more comfortable clothing way too slowly to be normal.

She’s stalling for Alicia’s sake. Alicia sits on what’ll be her bed for the night and watches Al fidget, attempting to look busy so she doesn’t have to join Isabelle right away. They’ll have to be right up against each other if they both want to fit on the seats.

“Hey,” Charlie says sharply as Al finally goes to join Isabelle. “I’ll stab you if you fall on me,” she warns.

Al cracks a weary smile. “I’ll do my best, but if you’re gonna stab me, make sure it’s somewhere fatal, okay? I don’t want to slowly die of an infection.”

“That got dark,” Charlie says, but she can’t conceal a smile.

“Please don’t stab my girlfriend,” Isabelle pipes up.

“Don’t let her fall on me,” Charlie replies.

“She won’t fall,” Isabelle assures her.

“Don’t step on me, either. And can you turn those lights out?”

Al rolls her eyes but carefully steps over Charlie, kills the lights, and lowers herself onto the seats next to Isabelle. Isabelle presses her back flat against the side of the van to make room and finally ditches her book. As Al and Isabelle settle in, Alicia turns her back to them and uses her leather jacket as a blanket. With the rain and the thunder and the fact that Al and Isabelle are right behind her, Alicia highly doubts she’ll get any sleep tonight. She’s only been scraping together four hours a night in the past week, maybe. She’s gotten used to lying awake.

A couple of hours pass, probably, before Al says, “Can’t sleep?” Alicia figures if she ignores her, Al will think she was wrong about Alicia being awake, but instead, Al says, “I know you’re up, Alicia.”

“What’s it to you?”

“I can’t sleep, either.”

“Great. Can we just lie here in silence, please?”

“I can’t sleep because of what we talked about earlier.”

Alicia huffs. “You want me to feel bad that you’re losing sleep over that?”

“No –”

“Then what do you want from me? You want some overly emotional declaration of love? Because it’s still pouring, so we can go out in the rain, and I can give some big speech, and it’ll be really dramatic. Romantic comedy kind of shit, except not really, because I’ll just be setting myself up for major rejection.”

“Alicia –”

“Do me a favor, Al, and save it. I really don’t want to hear it.”

“I’m sorry,” Al says. “If I could do it again –”

“Don’t even,” Alicia snaps. She twists around to face Al, to glare at her through the darkness. “Don’t even start with that, because I know damn well you wouldn’t change a thing.”

“I would’ve handled it differently, if I was the same person then that I am now.”

“That does _nothing_ for me,” Alicia hisses. “And hearing you say that just makes everything worse.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want an apology.”

“Then what do you want?” Al asks. She seems to realize her mistake, based on the small, choked sound she makes in the back of her throat immediately after.

“You know what I want,” Alicia answers anyway. “But that’s my problem, not yours. So please, stop trying to make it your problem.”

Al exhales with a certain finality, and Alicia rolls back to face the van wall again. She swipes at her eyes with the heels of her hands and listens to the rain splattering against the van. It’s almost comforting.

*

The rain’s over by the time Alicia wakes up, and she leaves the van immediately. It’s definitely not morning, and Alicia finds Charlie seated behind the wheel of the SUV with a book in her lap. Alicia knocks on the window, and Charlie pops the door open and marks her page.

“Hey, you’re up,” Charlie says. Charlie studies Alicia’s face for a moment before asking, “You alright?”

“Yeah. What time is it?”

Charlie checks the watch strapped to her wrist. “Almost two.”

“Why’d you all let me sleep so late?” Alicia exclaims.

Charlie shrugs. “You need sleep.”

“That doesn’t mean –”

“Just say thank you.”

Alicia shakes her head in disbelief. “Well, what did I miss?”

“Not much,” Charlie says. “Strand and Luci are hitting golf balls. Strand killed a walker with one of Al’s clubs, and she’s not happy about that. Um…I don’t know. We ate breakfast and lunch, but if you’re hungry –”

“I’m fine,” Alicia cuts in. “So what you’re saying is, I missed nothing.”

“Pretty much. It’s quiet out here.”

Alicia nods. She’s about to shut the door for Charlie, but Charlie’s hand shoots out and stops her. “What?” Alicia says.

“I overheard you last night,” Charlie admits. “Talking to Al. I know, I shouldn’t have – I didn’t know what to do, so I didn’t speak up.”

“Oh my God,” Alicia says.

“No, it’s – things kind of make sense now. I mean, I’m really sorry for intruding on a super personal moment, but…I get it. Al’s hot, especially with the shorter hair and the scar thing. It’s kind of badass –”

“Please stop,” Alicia says. “I’m begging you. Do _not_ say anything. Especially not – don’t ever say Al’s hot again. Or better yet, never say _anyone_ is hot. You are – you’re a kid.”

Charlie rolls her eyes. “I’m seventeen. Basically an adult. I can think people are hot.”

“Not people twice your age, and especially not people who are already taken.”

Charlie raises her eyebrows. “But you’re into someone who’s already taken?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

Alicia hesitates. “There’s history –”

“So what happened five years ago then?”

“I’m not answering that,” Alicia says pointedly. “And you’re going to forget we ever had this conversation – and you’re going to forget the conversation I had with Al last night. You’re going to forget everything.”

“Done.”

Alicia covers her face with her hands while she recovers from the embarrassment. “And listen,” she says. “I told Al we’d stay two weeks, but then we’re leaving.”

“Got it.”

“Just – don’t say anything to anyone.”

“I got it, Jesus,” Charlie complains. “I’m not going to sell you out, Alicia. We’re friends, and I barely know Al, anyway.”

“Right. Thanks.”

Charlie hums and nods, picking her book back up. “She is hot, though.”

“Stop that!”

Charlie grins as Alicia shuts the door and storms off. She finds Luci and Strand still hitting golf balls off into the distance, and she takes the driver out of Strand’s hands mid-swing. He starts to protest, but when he catches sight of the look on Alicia’s face, he raises his hands in surrender and walks off, grumbling.

“You okay?” Luci asks. She kicks a golf ball toward Alicia with the toe of her boot, and Alicia sends the ball flying a moment later.

“Great,” Alicia mutters. “Just fucking great.”

“You know, I think it could be good for us if we stayed.”

Alicia snorts and hits another ball, sending it so far, she loses sight of it. “Two weeks,” she says. “Then we leave.”

“But…why?” Luci questions. “We finally found Al, and since we’ve lost Morgan, and John and June left…I think we should stay.”

“I have to leave, Luci,” Alicia replies. She can’t bring herself to look in Luci’s direction, so she hits another ball.

“Why?” When Alicia doesn’t answer, Luci presses, “Oh, come on. I thought we were friends.”

“We are.”

“Then what aren’t you telling me?”

Alicia stops herself from taking her next swing and turns to face Luci, finally. “It’s not something you want to know. Trust me. It’ll just make everything…weird.”

“Everything is already weird,” Luci points out. “You’re almost thirty, Strand’s hair is mostly gray, and Charlie is taller than both you and me. It’s just – we can handle weird.”

Alicia shakes her head. “Not this kind of weird.”

“Maybe if you’d tell me –”

“I’m in love with Al,” Alicia says. God, it’s like a thousand pounds has just been lifted off her chest. She’s never said the words out loud, not even to herself. “I have been since before she even left the factory, and she’s very happy with Isabelle, and I –” Alicia curses her voice for breaking, but Luci seems to get it once she gets over the initial shock.

“Okay,” Luci says. She drops her club to the grass and closes the short distance between her and Alicia. Luci hesitates, but she settles for grasping onto Alicia’s shoulder. “Okay, we can leave,” Luci agrees. “But why two weeks?”

“When we did the perimeter check – Al made me agree to stay for two more weeks. But at the end of those two weeks, I’ll still want to leave. You see why.”

“I do.”

“You don’t have to come with me,” Alicia tells her. “You can stay –”

“What?” Luci interrupts. “No. I’m coming. And Strand and Charlie will come, too. Look, Al is great, and Isabelle is nice, but come on, Alicia. You’re our family. There’s no contest.”

Alicia smiles and blinks away the sudden stinging in her eyes. Luci finally stops holding onto Alicia’s shoulder and hugs her instead. When Alicia pulls back, she gets another ball and hits it into the distance.

“I always thought I’d hate golf,” she tells Luci, “but this isn’t so bad.”

“This isn’t real golf,” Luci laughs.

“No, it’s better.”

Alicia lifts the driver up to inspect it, and it’s coated with drying walker blood. She thinks golf would be much better if the targets were walker heads instead of little white balls, but she’s not up for trying Al’s patience today.

“Don’t you want to eat?” Luci asks after Alicia has emptied out their bucket of balls.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Alicia, you’ve probably lost five pounds in the last week.”

“I’m fine.”

Luci frowns, but she doesn’t push her. Yet. Alicia knows Luci will be all over her if she skips dinner, too. Alicia hands the driver off to Luci to return to Al and walks back to the SUV where Charlie’s still reading. Strand’s catching a nap in the back, and Alicia figures it’s time to read that book she started but never got around to finishing since they ran into Al and Isabelle.

*

The two weeks drags. Alicia expects them to, but this is kind of ridiculous. Every day, she can only dodge Al for so long, because they always eat dinner as a group. And she gets roped into checking the perimeter with Al more than once. On their second to last night together, Alicia doesn’t bother to fight with Al over the perimeter. She goes along, butterfly knife in hand.

“So Isabelle knows, right?” Alicia asks the moment they’re out of earshot of anyone else.

“Knows what?” Al asks.

“Don’t play dumb. She knows I – she told me that you told her I kissed you before you left the factory.”

“When did she say that?”

“Two weeks ago,” Alicia dismisses. “When we raided that pharmacy together. Well, really I asked her if she knew, and she said yes. She _knows_ that I…have feelings for you.”

Al hesitates. “Yeah. We’ve…discussed it.”

“I’m surprised she hasn’t gutted me yet.”

“She isn’t like that.”

“No, she told me she wants us to stay,” Alicia spits.

“She does. And so do I.”

This is making Alicia’s head hurt. “I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t she want me gone?”

Al sighs heavily. “Alicia –”

“No. Answer the goddamn question.”

“She isn’t worried,” Al says. “She knows – she knows I won’t do anything, and she doesn’t think you’ll do anything.”

“She’s right, because I’m going to leave in two days.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to. So you can stop trying to make me stay.”

“I’m not going to stop trying.”

“You have two days, then I’m out,” Alicia reminds. “You haven’t swayed me in the past two weeks. What’s two more days?”

“It’s forty-eight more hours for you to reevaluate your decision.”

“It won’t change, and Luci and Charlie are on board.”

“And Strand?”

“Probably has no idea what’s going on,” Alicia says. “But when we leave, he’ll be with us. We’re – we’re family, Al, and you left us a long time ago.”

Al stops walking, stops paying any attention to the perimeter. “And I said I’d come back, and I’m _here_.”

“You’re five years too late. And you didn’t come back. We found you by pure chance. If I’d listened to Strand and headed for Indiana instead of Iowa…”

“Finish that sentence,” Al demands.

“None of this would’ve ever happened,” Alicia says, daring to meet Al’s gaze. “Can we finish checking the perimeter now?”

Al starts walking again, keeping her hand against the gun at her hip. Her jaw’s set, and her eyes search their surroundings for anything unusual. “There has to be something I can do,” Al says.

“I don’t know, can you turn time back five years and alter history?”

“You’re really going to hold a grudge over something that I did five years ago?”

“You’re really going to ask me to stay here and watch you and Isabelle be in love until the day I die?” Alicia retorts. “And it could be any day now, you know. I’m almost thirty.”

Al balks. “That’s not right.”

Alicia smiles thinly. “It is, actually. We’ve been keeping track, and I will be thirty in ten more days. If you’d like to kill me before then, be my guest. I never thought I’d make it this far, anyway.”

“Thirty is a big deal.”

“Thirty is old,” Alicia replies.

“Watch it,” Al teases.

“Please. Your hair’s already starting to go gray. You’re past old.”

“Graying early runs in my family,” Al defends. “And I’m surprised I’m not completely gray or, you know, totally bald after all the stress this world has piled on.”

Alicia laughs, but she hates herself for it immediately after she sees the smirk on Al’s face. Almost like they’re old friends, except Al will likely always be Alicia’s biggest regret, her biggest _what if_. If she’d said something five years ago, they might not even be here like this, and that’s on Alicia, as much as she wants to entirely blame Al.

“It’s my fault, too,” Alicia says.

“What?”

“I didn’t tell you,” Alicia continues. “I kissed you right before you left, but I didn’t say – I should’ve said it. I couldn’t make myself say it.”

“You can’t –”

“I can beat myself up for it, and I will,” Alicia cuts in. “Forever, probably. And don’t bother with the _there’s other people_ speech. There were other people. There was Matt and Jake and – and you, and look how all of that went.”

“I don’t actually know. You never told me.”

“Matt and Jake are dead. Well, as far as I know, Matt could still be a walker. The point is, nothing has ever ended well for me, and I’m almost thirty, so I doubt that’ll magically change.”

“It might.”

“I’m not going to hold my breath,” Alicia says. They finish the perimeter check. Their eyes lock, but Alicia finds she has nothing left to say. Her eyes shift past Al, toward the van where Isabelle’s waiting on the top step. Alicia nods then heads for the SUV.

Just one more night.

*

The exhaustion has finally set in so deep that Alicia doesn’t wake up until someone else shakes her awake. Before she knows what’s happening, someone’s helping her out of the SUV and nudging her toward the van.

“What’s going on?” Alicia mumbles, squinting against the midday sun. Wait. “What time is it?” she demands.

“Almost three,” Isabelle says. Alicia startles and pulls herself free of Luci’s grasp. “Sorry to wake you, but we need your car.”

“Wait, what?” Alicia questions. “What’s happening?”

“Since you guys are taking off tomorrow, I thought we could seriously restock everything,” Isabelle explains. “Your friends generously offered to help, so you can get some more rest in the van until we get back. Sound good?”

No. Not at all. Alicia’s eyes flick from Isabelle to Strand to Charlie to Luci. “Where’s Al?” she asks.

“Working on her documentary,” Isabelle answers. “She won’t bother you. We’ll be back in a few hours.”

Before Alicia can ask anything else, Isabelle gets into the passenger’s seat of the SUV and pulls the door shut. Strand fires up the engine, and Luci flashes Alicia a smile before taking her spot beside Charlie in the back.

No, this _cannot_ be happening.

The SUV speeds off, leaving Alicia with only one option. She yanks the back door of the van open and storms in, tempted to pull one of the butterfly knives or even her Glock. “Did you do this?” Alicia snarls.

“Do what?” Al asks. She doesn’t even look up from her camera, which is playing back one of her tapes. She hits pause, though, and waits for Alicia’s answer.

“Did you send them all off to get supplies?”

“It was Isabelle’s idea,” Al says calmly. “And all of your friends happily volunteered.”

“But you didn’t.”

“They wouldn’t let you stay here all by yourself,” Al says. “Look, if you want the van to yourself, I can go do this outside. But I’m taking the keys.”

“Forget it,” Alicia says. “I’ll sleep up front.”

“You’ve slept for twelve hours, at least,” Al replies. “You aren’t done yet?”

“Not even close.”

But that’s a lie. The second Alicia settles in, she realizes she’s wide awake. She listens to the faint voices coming from Al’s camera in the back of the van, listens to the scratching of Al’s pen on paper.

“Are you gonna use my mom’s tape?” Alicia asks. She can’t help herself. “In your documentary.”

“Both of them,” Al answers. “The interview your mom gave, and the one you all gave to finish her story. They’re both accounted for in here already.”

It’s tempting, the idea of asking Al if she can watch her mother’s interview. She hasn’t seen her mother’s face in years. More than five years. And she bets Al has a tape with Nick in it, too, since she was filming all the time when they’d first met. Alicia doesn’t ask. Doesn’t have to.

“You want to watch it?” Al asks.

“Watch what?”

“Your mom’s tape.”

Alicia closes her eyes, swallows hard. “No.”

“Do you want it?”

“What?”

“Do you want the tape?” Al asks.

“No,” Alicia says. “Put it in your documentary, if you ever actually get the chance to make one.”

“Oh, I’ll make it. It’s just a matter of if anyone will see it before I die.”

“That’s depressing.”

“Life’s depressing,” Al replies. “It really is the little things that make it still worth living, huh?”

“No.”

“Then why are you still alive?”

Alicia turns back to stare at Al. “What kind of question is that?”

“A genuine one.”

“I guess I just don’t have the guts to blow my own brains out yet,” Alicia says wryly. “But who knows? Maybe once I’m thirty, that’ll change.”

“Nothing changes,” Al says. She shuts the camera off, puts it away, twists to face Alicia. Al even dares to smile at her. “Trust me, going from twenty-nine to thirty is nothing.”

“Yeah, but going from thirty-five to thirty-six is going to hurt,” Alicia says.

“It’s still just one year closer to certain death,” Al says. Before Alicia can say anything, Al pulls a bottle of scotch out of one of the van’s many hiding places and opens it for the first time. “They’re going to be a while,” Al informs. “And I can’t sit in this van with you totally sober until they get back.”

“This really wasn’t your idea?”

“Not at all,” Al confirms. She takes a swig, makes a face, then holds the bottle out to Alicia. “I think maybe Isabelle thought I’d be able to convince you to stay if it was just the two of us.”

“Isabelle wants us to stay that badly?”

“I think she’s getting tired of being in a confined space with just me for company all the time,” Al says. “And she knows you’re the person whose mind needs to change, because Strand, Luci, and Charlie are just going to follow your lead.”

Alicia drinks, because Al’s right. Being trapped here with her totally sober will suck. “My mind won’t change.”

“I know that,” Al says. “You were very clear last night.”

“Good,” Alicia says. She hands the scotch back to Al. As Al gets her fingers around the neck of the bottle, thunder rumbles in the distance. Their eyes lock, and Alicia groans, “Oh no.”

“That could be a problem,” Al agrees. “Hold onto that.”

Alicia keeps the bottle of scotch while Al retrieves the walkie. She makes contact with Isabelle, but Isabelle just assures her that the incoming storm won’t be a big deal.

“And if you get stuck out there?” Al questions.

“It’s safe,” Isabelle replies. “Don’t worry about us. We’re fine.”

Al puts the walkie down and goes to lock up the van. “Idiots,” she mutters to herself.

“What?” Alicia says.

“They aren’t going to be able to drive back in this,” Al says. “The roads are shitty enough without torrential rain.”

“So…we could be stuck here overnight? Alone?”

Al sighs. “Yeah.”

Alicia drinks more.

*

Three hours pass, and the storm shows no signs of letting up. Alicia’s had her fair share of the scotch, and she sprawls out across one set of seats in the back, hoping it’ll make her feel less dizzy. It’s working, kind of. As long as she stays completely still.

“They’re not coming back,” Al says.

“I figured.”

“Yeah, well, Isabelle just confirmed it for us,” Al says. “They’re going to camp in an abandoned mattress store in some strip mall for the night.”

“Lucky bastards,” Alicia complains. “I haven’t slept in a bed in years.”

“You’re telling me.”

“This is so sad,” Alicia says. “We’re stuck in a van in the middle of nowhere Iowa, our friends get to sleep on actual mattresses, and –”

“And you’re drunk?” Al supplies.

“I’m not drunk.”

“Your words are slurring.”

Alicia pauses. “No, you just can’t hear right.”

“My hearing is fine. This bottle was full when we opened it, and I’ve had way less than you.”

“Then drink more,” Alicia says.

“I’m old, remember? I can’t handle the kind of hangover that getting drunk will bring me anymore.”

“I forgot hangovers were a thing.”

“Well, you’ll remember tomorrow.”

Alicia groans. “Where’s the water in here?”

“Quitting so soon?” Al teases. She gets up to get Alicia some water. “I thought you weren’t drunk.”

“I’m not.”

“Lies,” Al says. She drops a water bottle onto Alicia’s stomach. “Drink that.”

“When the world stops spinning, I will.”

Al drops onto the seats across from Alicia, watching as Alicia struggles to drink water and stop the world from spinning. “I’m saying this because I care, Alicia. You’re a mess.”

Alicia nearly spits out her mouthful of water. She chokes it down and busts out laughing. “Thanks,” Alicia says. “I really needed to hear that.”

Al smiles, runs her hand through her hair. It’s not as short as when they’d first arrived about three weeks ago. She’s almost starting to look like she did five years ago, if you discount the massive scar across her face. And maybe she looks a little more worn down, but don’t they all?

“You said you weren’t happy,” Al says. “When you first got here. Are you leaving as unhappy as you were when you showed up?”

Alicia grins, gulps down more water, then says, “I’m leaving in much worse shape, Al, trust me. I could’ve done without the past three weeks.”

“You mean that?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t mean it, if it’d just been you we’d found,” Alicia says.

“You would’ve stayed,” Al says. “If it was just me.”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t think twice about it.” Alicia pauses. “Don’t tell Isabelle I said any of that. She’s really nice.”

“When she wants to be.”

“Don’t mess that up,” Alicia says.

“I won’t? What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m drunk, I think,” Alicia says. She grins again. “I’m not dizzy anymore.”

“That’s great. Drink more water.”

Alicia sits up. “No, I’m good. I’ve got it.”

“Don’t get up,” Al warns.

“I’m fine,” Alicia insists. She sets her water aside and pushes herself to her feet. Al jumps up the second Alicia starts swaying and manages to grab her by the arms before Alicia starts to fall. Instead, Alicia falls straight into Al, laughing at nothing in particular.

“Sit down.”

“Can’t.”

“Sure you can. It’s right behind you,” Al grunts. Alicia’s forehead presses against her shoulder, and Alicia gets two fistfuls of the back of Al’s shirt in her hands. “Come on. Sit down before you tear my shirt.”

“You have more,” Alicia mumbles.

“I like this shirt.”

“It’s just a black shirt.”

Alicia lifts her head from Al’s shoulder. “I can stand,” she says. She nods to herself then lets go of the back of the Al’s shirt to prove her point, but she immediately loses her balance again and grabs onto Al’s shoulders to stay steady. “Almost,” Alicia amends. “I can almost stand.”

“Sit down.”

“Make me.”

Al’s about to, but Alicia’s hands release her shoulders, and she holds Al’s face in her hands instead.

“What are you doing?” Al asks quietly.

Alicia seems to actually think about the question before she says, “You’re just…really pretty. Even with the scar and everything.”

Al nods. “Alright. Yeah. Thanks. You should sit –”

“I’ll sit when I want to sit,” Alicia interrupts.

“Can you at least get your hands off my face?”

Alicia pointedly removes her hands, grabbing onto Al’s shoulders again. “Happy?”

“Very. You should sleep this off.”

“You should mind your own business,” Alicia replies, but she finally lowers herself back down to the seats. She wakes up an undeterminable amount of time later, definitely less drunk. She has a nice headache forming, and it’s pitch black in the van now. It’s still raining, and the next flash of lightning is followed by the loudest clap of thunder ever. Loud enough to wake Al. Alicia locates her water and drinks the rest as Al sits up.

“What the hell’s going on?” she says.

“Just thunder,” Alicia answers. “Where’s the scotch? If I stay drunk, I can’t be hungover, right?”

“I’m not sure that’s how that works.”

“Worth a shot.”

“No, it’s not,” Al says. She flicks a switch, and a dim light fills the van. It’s kind of creepy, actually. Alicia gets up, aware that Al’s watching her, but she isn’t going for the scotch. “Whoa, what are you doing?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Al jumps up, but she can’t reach Alicia before she flings the back doors open and steps into the rain.

“You can’t be serious!” Al shouts. She has enough sense to grab a weapon before following Alicia outside. “It’s raining!”

“I had a thought,” Alicia says.

“A thought that led to us standing in the rain?”

“You didn’t have to follow,” Alicia replies. She pushes her soaked hair back from her face. This is the closest thing she gets to a shower. “But I realized something.”

Al nods, doesn’t bother to hide her confusion. “Are you going to tell me?”

“Five years ago,” Alicia says. “We stood out in the rain.”

“Yeah?”

“And I made that sarcastic comment about romantic comedy style declarations of love in the rain? You know, last week or something?”

“Yeah,” Al says. “Where is this going?”

“I’ve been telling you that you’re too late, but actually –” Alicia laughs, “I’m too late. I should’ve stood in the rain five years ago and declared my love or whatever, and maybe you would’ve stayed. Or at least I would’ve known that I tried instead of just letting you go.”

“Alicia –”

“I’m leaving in the morning,” Alicia interrupts. “This is it. This is our last chance.” Alicia grabs onto Al’s shoulders. “Tell me not to go.”

“I’ve been telling you not to go,” Al says gently.

“That’s not what I mean!”

Al falters. “I can’t.”

Alicia nods. “Yeah. I know. But I can’t leave without – without at least _trying_. I know, I’m five years too late, but I –”

“Alicia,” Al says. She grabs onto Alicia’s arms, but Alicia’s eyes haven’t left Al’s face since she followed her outside. “I swear, I’m not saying this to hurt you, but I love Isabelle.”

“I know,” Alicia says. She tightens her grip on Al’s shoulder and ignores when Al winces. “But I will never forgive myself if I don’t –” She stops talking and kisses Al. She expects to be shoved away, but to her surprise, Al kisses her back, but it feels like goodbye.

*

Alicia is woken up by voices. It takes her a minute to figure out where she is – the back of Al’s van. Alicia lifts her head, squinting against the sunlight pouring into the van.

“Hey, you’re up!” Luci says. She pats Alicia’s leg. “Come on. We’re taking some of the supplies we found with us, so we’ll be good for a few weeks. And you look like hell.”

“Scotch,” Alicia says hoarsely. “Big mistake.”

Luci walks out of the van with Alicia before Alicia has to see Al and Isabelle reunite, even though they were only separated less than a day.

“What happened?” Luci asks.

“You don’t want to know.”

“You didn’t!”

“I didn’t,” Alicia hisses. “Not – not what you’re thinking.”

“You’re telling me everything,” Luci says.

“Later,” Alicia promises. “I need fresh clothes and –”

“A mint?”

Alicia shoots her a glare. “Something to eat.”

Luci pats Alicia’s shoulder. “We’re packed and ready to go,” she says. “Just say when.”

*

Alicia lets the rest of her friends say goodbye to Al and Isabelle first. And when Alicia can’t avoid it anymore, she makes it quick. She hugs Isabelle first, steps back and clears her throat, straightens out her jacket.

“Good luck,” Isabelle says.

“You too.”

Alicia hugs Al the way you’d hug someone you didn’t drunkenly kiss the night before because you’re in love with them. Al’s hand rests a little too low on Alicia’s back, but Alicia decides not to call her on it in front of Isabelle.

“Take care,” Al says softly.

“Yeah, you too,” Alicia mutters. “Come on, guys. Let’s head out. Strand wants to see Indiana.”

“Don’t bother,” Isabelle says. “It’s always been a shithole.”

“Then maybe we should head west,” Alicia says. “Charlie, get the map.”

Alicia hooks her thumb in her back pocket as she follows Luci, Strand, and Charlie to the SUV. Her eyebrows pull together, but she doesn’t do anything until she’s strapped into the passenger’s seat.

“Be careful,” she tells Charlie.

“I’m a good driver,” Charlie replies. They all wave to Al and Isabelle as Charlie drives off.

“Too fast,” Alicia warns.

“Yeah, whatever,” Charlie says.

Once the SWAT van is out of sight, Alicia reaches into her back pocket and pulls free the folded piece of paper Al had managed to slip into her pocket. Alicia’s a little offended that Al wasn’t trying to grope her, but that feeling is quickly replaced with a sense of dread at what the note might hold. She unfolds it, and she’s disappointed that there’s not some long, rambling love letter waiting for her, because then she’d have a reason to tell Charlie to turn around. Instead, written on the center of the page in Al’s neat, uppercase writing, is _check your jacket pocket_.

Alicia’s eyebrows pull together. She refolds the note, tucks it into her jacket pocket, then checks the other one because the first one is empty. Her blood runs cold, and she almost tells Charlie to turn back, because Al wouldn’t _dare_.

No, she wouldn’t. The label doesn’t say _Amina_ or _Madison_. No. It says _Alicia_.

“What’s that?” Luci asks, leaning forward.

“I don’t know,” Alicia says. “Al left me a tape.”

Luci hums. “Guess we’ll have to find a way to play that.”

*

It takes three months before they find a way, and Alicia wants to smash the tape multiple times before then, but she refrains.

“We’ll wait,” Luci says. She’s worried, but Alicia smiles and nods. Alicia pops the tape into the camera they found and sits back, exhaling heavily. She braces herself for what she expects to see, and sure enough, Al’s face fills the little screen.

“Hey,” Al says. “Sorry. That’s – this is weird. Anyway, by the time you find something to watch this on, you’ll be long gone, I’m sure. I’m lucky the rain stopped, because you’re asleep inside the van on the last night I’ll probably ever see you again. Oh, first, happy birthday. You leave tomorrow, before you turned thirty, but it’s a big milestone, especially in this world. Uh, I probably should’ve written something to say down, because I’m drawing a massive blank, and the longer I sit here, the more of this tape I waste. But I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving five years ago, and I’m sorry – I wish it could be different.”

Alicia pauses the tape, considers destroying the whole camera. She takes a deep breath and hits play.

“If I could go back – if I could do it again…I know you told me not to say this, but if I could do it again, I would do it differently. That’s – I know it means nothing now, but I would’ve done it differently if I’d known.” Al pauses. “You know, the longer I’m out here, meeting people, the less optimistic I get. But maybe one day we’ll meet again. I hope we do. And maybe things will be different then.”

Alicia shuts the camera off. If there’s more, she doesn’t want to see it. Not yet, at least. She packs the camera into her backpack and goes to rejoin her friends.

“You okay?” Luci asks.

“Great,” Alicia says. She manages a shaky smile. “Let’s go. I’ve always wanted to visit Colorado.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


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